


Escalation

by SRoni



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SRoni/pseuds/SRoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irritation escalates into pranks. Told in a series of notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escalation

**Author's Note:**

> **MAJORBIGTIME EDIT!** I really need to give credit to Deird1 and her story, “[Towels](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9844)” for this. And a huge apology for not crediting it before. I wasn’t intentionally stealing, and it’s not that I forgot to give credit; _I forgot that I’d read this story_. It wasn’t until I was talking to my dad and he told me that I needed to credit this story for inspiration that I remembered “Towels”. I’ve been thinking of a roommate war told in notes for a while, and now I know why. So edits to the story have happened, in order to _further_ separate it from “Towels”. (Accidental plagiarism was accidental, and I truly apologize.)
> 
>  
> 
> This is part of an AU that I'm working on in which Rachel takes Quinn in once the truth about the baby's daddy comes out and Finn's mom kicks her out. The whole story is being worked on, but I enjoyed writing this series of notes between the two girls.

Dear Quinn,

I realize that you have grown up with a maid all your life, and that you are with child, and that as such, expecting you to do what would normally be considered one’s fair share of chores is unfair to you. I understand that.

But in the future, please refrain from leaving your dirty clothes on the bedroom floor. There is a laundry hamper at the foot of my bed, and another in my closet, and a third one in the bathroom. You are welcome to use any of those, as well as the extra one in the hallway. Whichever is most convenient to you.

Thank you,  
Rachel Barbra Berry *gold star sticker*

***

Dear Rachel,

I appreciate you letting me stay here and your dads rock. I wish you rocked as much as them. You’d think that you’d have inherited coolness from them. Do you _have_ to set your alarm to go off at six in the morning, _every_ morning? And listen to showtunes full blast while you do your crazy workout routine?

Tell you what. I’ll pick my clothes up when you stop waking me up at six in the freaking morning. Squid po crow, you know?

Hugs and Kisses,  
Quinn

***

Dear Blonde Cheeri-ho Currently Taking Up Residence in MY Bedroom,

It’s “Quid pro quo”. Squid po crow doesn’t make any sense.

When I asked you to not leave your dirty laundry on our bedroom floor, I really did intend for you to place them in the hamper.

I did _not_ intend for you to place them in my locker at school. And what _was_ it you stirred them in first?

By the way, Jacob Ben-Israel ran off with your g-string before I could stop him. Whoopsies.

Rachel *gold star sticker*

***

Dear Diva,

When _I_ asked you to stop waking me up at six in the morning, _I_ did not mean for you to start waking me up at five thirty in the morning instead. You might want to rethink that move.

Get me my underwear back, or I’ll tell people about the B you got in second grade.

Beware the pregnant chick,  
Quinn

***

Dear Blonde Bitca,

I stopped waking you up at five-thirty in the morning. I stopped waking you up at six. I pushed my own schedule back thirty minutes, and listen to my workout music on headphones, so as to not disturb your precious beauty sleep.

So what exactly did I do to deserve all my clocks changed by two hours? I was late to school. I have _never_ been late to school! This has affected my perfect attendance record!

You might want to back off,  
Rachel *gold star sticker*

***

Dear Heinous Control Freak,

_** YOU DELETED ALL MY MUSIC OFF MY IPOD? ** _

You. Are. _Dead_. To. Me.

***

Dear Teen Mom Who Is Already A Washed-Up Has-Been,

Your music is backed up on the computer. Check the file, “Rachel’s Pictures”. You’ll find your music. Of course, you’ll need to guess your new password … Oh, well. You’re a smar–… you’re not a total idiot, so you should be able to figure it out.

When you came in and sat in the clean (very clean, by the way) living room and visited with me while I put the sequins on my white dance costume for this weekend, I thought it was nice. That we might be turning over a new leaf in our relationship. I tamped down the urge to suggest that you take your coffee elsewhere. I was trying to be nice, in the same way you were nice to me.

When you stood up and tripped, I saw the brown stream fly through the air in slow motion, landing right in the middle of my white dance costume.

Brown. _Right in the middle_ of my _white_ costume that I would be needing this weekend.

I almost killed you. I had the scissors in my hand.

I realized that the ‘brown stain’ was a  _brown sock_.

That didn’t stop me from almost killing you. You’d been sitting there ‘sipping’ out of a cup of brown sock, just waiting for the moment you could spill it.

I’m pretty sure it would be considered justifiable homicide. A jury of my peers would never convict me.

***

Dear Brunette Who Will Never Make it On Broadway,

Okay, I can see how the sock thing would be funny to me and not to you. I won’t do it again.

But you have to admit, it was pretty freaking hilarious.

 _However_ , watch your back. Because replacing my scalloped potatoes with water chestnuts? _So_ not cool.

Quinn

***

Dear Blonde Who Shall Remain Nameless, Even If You _Are_ Sharing A Room With Me,

So you thought that the correct response was to replace the cottage cheese that I only eat on special occasions because I don’t want my vocal chords to be coated from dairy products with _**clabbered milk!!!**_?

I spent two hours throwing up, which can’t be good for my vocal chords, and another half hour brushing my teeth.

Prepare for death.  
Rachel

***

Chicks,

You might be wondering why you’re locked in the room. You two need to work through your crap, before you poison each other.

Again.

So work it out, just don’t kill each other. Because we don’t want to be dealing with cleaning blood out of one of your (or both of your) Regionals costumes.

Seriously,  
All the Guys in Glee

***

Dear Glee Guys,

You’re right. We should work out our differences. And we have. We decided to focus on our similarities instead.

For instance, we realized that we’re both intelligent women who know how to _get even_. Have fun getting Matt’s VW Bug out of the gym.

Toodles!  
Quinn and Rachel *gold star*

***

Blondie,

Throwing a jockstrap at my face was interesting. I can honestly say I’ve never had one fly at my head before.

Covering it in superglue first might be your downfall. Because now I have no choice but to ruin you.

 _I had a jockstrap glued to my face for three hours. **Not cool**_.

Enjoy your last day of pseudo-popularity.

Puck

***

Guys,

Not sure which one of you did it, but I will find out. (I’m looking at you first, Puckerman.) And when I do find out, I  _will_ destroy you. I’ve clawed my way to the top of this school, and I’ll do it again, and you _will_ find out what it means for Quinn Fabray to be mad at you. No. Not mad. Mad doesn’t _begin_ to describe it. Mad was what I was when you locked me in the choir room with Rachel. I’m at eye-bleeding rage.

You put food coloring in my shampoo. _My hair is **baby-poop green!**_

You’re going to pay. In blood.

Or … clothes.

Quinn

***

Crazy-Ass,

I’m blaming you for this one since we all know that Quinn wouldn’t know which end of the needle to sew with. Not entirely sure how you got into all our lockers. None of us were thrilled that we had to go commando since our boxers were missing after football practice, but whatevs.

We were even less thrilled when we saw the new “flag” you had made for the school.

You’re buying us new boxers.  
Puck and the guys

***

Everyone,

Enough is enough. Sue took the pranks to Figgins, and he told me to pass on to you that either the pranks stop, or he’s disbanding Glee.

So _knock it off_. We don’t need to do Sue any favors.

I’ve decided that since you have time to come up with and implement all these pranks, you have time for more practice. So we have mandatory Saturday practices. See you at six tomorrow.

Mr. Schue


End file.
